Sister
by perplexic
Summary: I am the sister who holds her gay brother through the painful, tear-filled nights. Slight ShinoKiba
1. Sister

**AN: **This was inspired by a group of fics on adultfanfiction that were inspired by that series of signatures that details stories of the hardships faced by homosexuals and their loved ones. Being in a particularly angsty mood after reading them this one in particular pulled at me, and being a ShinoKiba shipper, this happened, and then a second chapter happened, too. Props to the one who started it on adultfanfiction though. Also beware of _**ANGST OVERLOAD**_. Just a warning.

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_I am the sister who holds her gay brother through the painful, tear-filled nights._

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"Oh god I can't do this…"

You had never imagined that your adorably uncouth little brother was anything but an average, spirited young boy who hung out with his friends, messed around, and wrestled with his dog in his free time.

You had never imagined that the way he looked at his friends was anything but relaxed and slightly protective, just like anyone else.

You had never imagined that the cocky, devil may care attitude was anything but him being the spoiled youngest child that he was.

You had never imagined that he was different until you found him collapsed at the front door, shaking and sobbing and screaming it in your face, clinging to his dog like it would be his savior.

You had never imagined that Kiba was gay, but that didn't stop you from holding him in your arms and trying to tell him that it was okay.

"Shh, Kiba, it's alright—"

"It's not! It's _not_! Oh god I'm such a freak. I can't take this anymore Hana!"

It's not that you're some naturally saintly, accepting individual. You can't lie to yourself and say you had a feeling all along. You can't even say you're truly and honestly, 100% comfortable with the idea.

You never imagined that Kiba was gay, but Kiba is still Kiba and your adorably uncouth little brother that you love to pieces and god help you if you're not going to do everything in your power to make him happy.

"Don't you dare say that Kiba! You're _not_ a freak! Pull yourself together!"

"That's just it Hana! I _can't_! I can't pretend like this anymore! It's too painful and too hard and he just doesn't _give_ a fuck! He _never _has and he _never _will and—"

_Two years_ he tells you_._

Two years.

Twenty-four months.

One hundred and six weeks. Seven hundred and thirty days. Seventeen thousand five hundred twenty hours. One-million-fifty-one-thousand-two-hundred-minutes-Sixtythreemillionseventytwothousandseconds—

For _two years_ Kiba has been hiding the fact. For _two years_ he shouldered the guilt and the self-doubt and misery and you never had a clue. For _two _years his only consolation was Akamaru's inquisitively concerned whines and unwavering companionship. For _two years_ you've been the worst possible big sister that you could ever imagine and you didn't even know it.

You never imagined that Kiba was gay, but that doesn't keep you from wanting to make up for lost time.

"—god just kill me now! Put me out of my misery! I've had enough! I'm just a worthless, fucked-up faggot—!"

"KIBA!! So help me god I will _never_ hear those words from your mouth _ever_ again, do you understand me!? No matter what you do, no matter what you say, and _certainly_ no matter who you choose to love will _ever_ make you any less of a person. Do you hear me Kiba!? _Never again_!! Now get a hold of yourself!"

Two years worth of tears are shed into your lap that night. The despair, terror, and hurt built up from two years of living a lie was entrusted to you with the last of the hope he had left.

You never imagined that Kiba was gay, but that doesn't make it any easier when you realize there's nothing you can do but hold him while he cries.


	2. Nothing

You don't talk about it in the morning.

Kiba says nothing as he pulls away from you and leaves silently and you know that in ten minutes he'll be back to the energetic, self-assured, adorably uncouth lie that you thought was your little brother.

You tell yourself that it's for the best. That it's easier this way, and for a while you almost believe it.

But suddenly the carefully forged smiles and syrupy sweet deception seems all too apparent and you're the one who crumbles under the pressure of normalcy even though you know it should be the other way around.

It's too sweet.

Too sweet and too fake and too perfect and it makes you feel sick.

Yet somehow, miraculously, you don't breathe a word of it, brushing it off as stress from the veterinary profession finally getting to you and you take the day off.

Kiba's concern is the only honest emotion you see on his face as long as the sun is up.

That night, long after your mother is asleep, he sneaks into your room and smothers you with '_I'm sorry_'s like a stricken lullaby, over and over as if it's the only thing keeping the air circulating in his lungs.

The next day goes better, but you still wonder how you never noticed, never realized that the very essence of Kiba's scent was saturated with despair and pretense.

The weeks pass slowly.

Kiba still comes to your room every night, though he cries less and less each time, and during the day, the edge to his voice that you never knew he had softened ever so slightly.

You think that these silences are going to crush you, these soundless tears and potent misery, and you wonder how you're going to bare this, how _he_ bore it for such a long time when you can't imagine anything more devastating.

Then he starts talking to you.

He says they don't mean it. That it's just the way people talk these days. _Dude that's so gay._ and _Don't be such a faggot._ He says that it has nothing to do with actually being gay or anything.

He doesn't say how much it hurts.

He confides in you that he's terrified sometimes of how people might react.

If they'll shun him.

If they'll ridicule him.

If they'll gang up on him.

If they'll spit on his grave when their done, assuming there's anything left to be buried.

Mostly though, he talks about Shino.

How Shino pulled this really awesome move yesterday.

How Shino treated the team to lunch today.

How Shino is going to help him train tomorrow.

How he _swears_ that he might have finally managed to make Shino smile or chuckle.

You remember the boy vaguely in how completely unspectacular he was.

He didn't really talk. He didn't really move. He didn't really leave any impression on you what so ever, which was only now occurring to you as being very peculiar.

It was only natural that the next time you caught a glance of him you took a little closer note.

It was only a brief moment, from across the crowed mid-day street.

And yet somehow even in the hustle and bustle of people he seemed so…

…isolated.

So entirely detached and faraway from the rest of the world. It was off-setting, being from a very social family and all, and slightly concerning.

He seemed so listless and unfeeling and almost inhuman and…

…isolated.

It seemed to keep coming back to that word.

You can't understand what Kiba sees in him, what's so great about him, what's so strong in him that made Kiba realize he wanted no one else. Not when he seems so _isolated_.

But the more you think about it, as Kiba stares out your window forlornly and regretfully and so so far away, the more you think that might be it.

He's drawn to that kindred isolation, that societal abnormality that still managed to earn purpose and respect.

And suddenly it seems somehow wrong, somehow unfair and tragic that the isolated, shut off, lonely boy you saw in the streets will never know just how deeply and unconditionally he is loved.

Because he will _never_ know. Because he can't know. Because Kiba has wept to you more than once that he can _nevernevernever_ know.

And you don't have the heart to expect any more of him, because _you_ know that even the barest hint of rejection will push your precious little brother back over the edge and into the swirl of guilt and self-hatred you were barely able to save him from once.

And it's just not fair.

Not in a place when the young drop dead faster than the old and you risk your life on a near daily basis and it's too too easy to take secrets to your grave.

It just can't be fair. Not to your tormented little brother, not to poor, lonely Shino, and sure as hell not to you.

That's right, isn't it? It's not fair to you.

It's not fair at all.

What did you ever do to deserve being forced to stand by uselessly as your beloved younger brother, that you're supposed to be supporting and protecting and teasing mercilessly, tears himself apart from the inside out?

This can't be fair.

And there's nothing you can do about it.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

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**AN:** Despite the fact that this was completely unfunny and maybe badly written, I hope you enjoyed(?) it! D:


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